Fates
by Jedi Bubbles
Summary: A meeting of Fels and Solos. Most likely not what you think. Now a short story. SoloFel
1. Meeting of Fates

**Title:** Fates  
**Rating:** PG  
**Period: **post LotF  
**Genre:** short story  
**Summary: **A meeting of Fels and Solos. Most likely _not_ what you think, unless you know me very, very well or you have read my mind. If the latter is the case, then get out of my mind, spoon bender. If you know where that line came from then you are cool.  
**Notes:** It's continuing. Yay. Oh, I have a beta for this now! Thank goodness! To decrease confusion, the title of the whole story is "Fates".   
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Star Wars. It belongs to George Lucas.

----------

**Part One: Meeting of Fates**

She pushed a strand of dark brown hair from her eyes as she leaned over the datapad. It would have to be cut soon. She couldn't stand her hair long. The bright, noon sun glared from the center of the sky, the rays were deflected by the datapad's screen making its contents difficult to read. A noise of frustration escaped from her throat.

Abruptly, she stood, grabbed her messenger bag and datapad and whirled round to make her way back into the hangar. There was a large fuss going on, some ambassador or other was arriving. Still, there was no blindingly bright sun to disturb her, so all was well.

She settled down on a metal crate in an out of the way area of the hangar. For several moments she watched people go back and forth, amused at how they resembled a decapitated avian-like creature she once saw. What was its name again? Chicky? Chucky? Chucken? Oh well, that wasn't a problem.

With her messenger bag beneath her folded knees, she brought her datapad up and began reading. Time passed quickly, without her noticing. Silence fell across the hangar as unnoticed government officials started to gather to the side. A ship landed and the dignitaries swarmed, flashes indicating that there were a few holo-journalists amongst them. All this went unnoticed by her for she had fallen asleep in her hiding spot.

An hour or two later, she awoke when a gonk dropped some luggage. She startled, hand automatically reaching for her lightsaber. When she saw there was no threat, she relaxed and leaned back against the now warmed metal of the crate to rub her eyes. After a few moments of sitting, she deemed herself awake and pulled her messenger bag from beneath her knees.

Without the bag beneath them, she could finally stretch out her legs, which creaked in protest to the sudden change of position. A grimace found its way on her face but she ignored the physical discomfort. Besides, it was nothing compared to what her tail bone was feeling from being the focus of her weight for so long. She slid her datapad into the messenger bag before swinging it onto her shoulder and standing.

She brought one hand up to straighten her hair while she brought up the other to peer at the chrono on her wrist. A curse escaped her. She was going to be late. Her family was _not_ going to be happy. Or they would tease her about it. Either option was not looking good. She started to jog from her hiding place behind the crates, heading out of the hangar and angling towards the living quarters several kilometers away.

There was a crowd up ahead. No doubt because of the visiting dignitary. Another curse escaped her. She was thankful her father was not here. He would most definitely be displeased with her language. Her eyes flicked back and forth across the crowd, trying to find some way around them.

Discovering that she was unable to find a path by conventional means, she slowed to a walk, and reached out for the Force. It answered her call, falling over her like a warm blanket. A whisper in the back of her mind directed her to a small curving side road that was unoccupied by security detail. Triumph rose within her. It would add on to her journey home but it would still be quicker than waiting for the dignitary to finish speaking.

She started again, at a jog, not fully releasing the Force, as she did so. Instead, she reached out to her parents and felt their slight annoyance, more from her cousin, who appeared to be ravenous, than anyone else. She brushed against their minds and assured them that she would be home soon. That was the basic message at least. She had not achieved the required level of Force control needed for that particular trick yet.

A tendril from the Force told her to stop. She did, skidding around the corner and ended up sliding into the person walking from the opposite direction. They both tumbled down in a flurry of arms, legs, and curses. Her hair was in her eyes along with another person's armpit. Her nose wrinkled in disgust and she shoved the arm away.

"Hey! What was that for?" The voice was definitely male, and from the sound of it he was about her age.

"Sorry, I didn't want to inhale your body odor."

"I don't have any body odor."

"So you don't sweat?"

"What are you talking about? I meant that I don't have any _now_. There's a difference you know. Also, I would be much obliged if you got the ten gallon bag off my back."

"I would gladly get it off your back if you got off of me."

"Well then, you'll have to get your bag off of me for me to get off of you."

"Fine," she agreed.

"Fine," the teenage boy echoed.

She dragged her bag off of him and he rolled off her before standing. He reached down a hand to help her up, which she gladly accepted. She was busy for the next several moments with straightening her hair and clothes. When she was finished, the boy gave a stiff bow, straightened, and then held out a hand. She shook his hand, looking at him critically.

He had black, short hair styled to appear messy with glass green eyes. His nose appeared to have been broken several times but that only added to the faint reckless look that shone in his eyes detracting nothing from his holostar good looks. He stared down the few inches difference in their height with the same critical expression on his face. Finally, he declared, "Our eyes match."

"No, they don't," she countered. "Mine are a darker green. Much darker."

He nodded his acquiesce to her point. "True. I'm Loryn Fel. Friends call me Catch. Which is what you can call me."

"Maeve Solo. People generally call me Maeve. Nice to meet you."

"You, too."

"I think you can stop shaking my hand now."

"Hmm? Oh, right, sorry." He released her hand but didn't move on his way.

They stood for several moments in an awkward silence. Finally, she pointed to the direction she had previously been heading and said, "I ahh… need to go this way. Umm… bye."

She took a few steps before he caught up with her, running around to block her path. "Wait! Can I come, too? To walk you wherever you're going? Please?"

"Sure," she answered uncertainly.

Had she realized that she would have earned herself a companion for the years to come, she might have shot him down. But as it was, she's quite content with the way things turned out.

Fin

Get it? It's Jaina and Zekk's daughter with Jag and some other person's son. See, I thought out the whole Force-sensitive, brown-haired, Fel emperor thing. I need to get a life. Hope you enjoyed it. The story was rather plot less but hopefully that didn't bother anyone too much. By the way, the title overloaded and broke my cheese meter because 1) I ripped it from "Duel of Fates" and 2) It's one of the corniest things I've ever heard.


	2. Invitation of Fates

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. I am making no money off of this.

----------

**Part 2: Invitation of Fates**

He kept staring at her. He didn't know why. He'd seen a lot of beautiful girls. There really was nothing extraordinary about her pretty features. She was slender and tall, with dark brown hair – three or four shades lighter than his own was – cut to just before her shoulders and long bangs that kept mixing with other strands of hair to get into her eyes. Her eyes were green, a lighter green in the middle surround by a corona of darker green. Her face was equally pretty, a narrow face that was softened and shared some of the same definitive looks of her grandmother. But that still didn't explain why he was drawn to her.

Maybe it was because she was a Jedi. She had to be, a lightsaber hung from her belt over the left hip. She probably did some sort of mind trick on him. But that didn't make any sense. Wouldn't his mind feel hazy? No, it had to be something else. Quite possibly, he could have inherited his father's fondness of Jedi. That was most likely the case. Although, he had no evidence to corroborate the inkling, he was very certain that this girl was the daughter of the Jedi woman who his father once loved. That would make an interesting reunion.

His eyes drifted over to her again.

----------

_Does he know how uncomfortable it is to have someone stare at you?_ she wondered. Granted, she slid the occasional sly glance his way but it was one thing to glance and another to stare. She felt like pulling a blanket over her head. Was there something wrong with her hair? Oh, what was she thinking? There's always something wrong with her hair. It never cooperated, grew far too fast, had to be cut too much.

"Are you related to Jagged Fel?"

"Are you related to Jaina Solo?"

They asked their questions at the same time.

"Yes," both answered automatically in unison."

"I'm his son."

"She's my mother."

"Ah," both said simultaneously.

She kept her mouth stubbornly shut. She was not used to having someone else having the same response as her. Her parents did that every now and then, so did her grandmother and great uncle. But other than that, she had little experience with it. He looked at her again. Self conscious, she felt her hand start to reach up to her hair. She quickly changed its path to scratch her back instead.

He was still staring at her. Unable to handle someone's constant gaze on her, she asked, "So how did you get the nickname Catch?"

"It was my first word."

"Your actual first word or the one aside from dada and mama?"

"What?"

"My parents don't believe that dada and mama count as first words since every baby says them."

"Oh, it was my actual first word. They have a home holo of me saying it. It sounds more like I'm trying to cough up something but it's close enough to count."

"Ahh, mine was 'bad'."

"Very nice. So what's it like being a Jedi?"

"We turn here," she said before answering his question. "It's interesting. Why do you ask?"

"Curious. Trying to keep the conversation going."

"Ahh."

"Do you live in that building?" He pointed to one of the structures on the horizon.

"No, the one next to it with the sloppily painted Rebel Alliance symbol emblazoned on the side."

"Oh-h, I see it. Graffiti?

"Yeah, a rather interesting choice, if you ask me." It was interesting considering that several of her friends in the building had painted it and they were descendents of the Imperial forces.

"Very nice color scheme. Neon pink and neon orange go very well together."

She snorted, shaking with quiet laughter. He didn't seem at all like she expected the child of Jagged Fel and grandson of Baron Soontir Fel to be. He was far too open and relaxed. From what she had seen of Baron Fel and Jagged Fel, they were very militaristic and stood unnaturally straight. But then again, all military people could stand unnaturally straight, she mused. Her mother had done it several times. It made her back ache to think of it. She wouldn't be able to keep that position for long. She had to move.

"What are you doing on planet?" she heard herself ask. The question had been bothering her since she learned his name but had never really meant to ask it.

"My dad's coming to do some diplomatic visits or something. I never really paid attention. I view this as a vacation." From the corner of her eye, she saw him bring his hands up and lock them behind his head. "I can't wait to hit the beaches."

"I'll be the first one to tell you that Mon Calamari water is cold."

"My dad already told me that. But there are some warm places. Mom plans on taking us to one of those."

"Nice, well this is my stop." 

"Oh right."

They stood there for several moments in an awkward silence. She noticed several scuffs that she'd have to polish out of her boots. She also noticed that his boots could use a good spit-shine as well. When the silence grew too much, she finally asked, "Would you like to come in? We can feed you before sending you on your way."

"Thanks. I think I'll take you up on that offer." His stopped talking for several moments although she could feel that he was on the verge of saying something. He Force presence radiated his embarrassment, the source of his hesitation. "Err… I don't quite recall where the ahh… hotel that my family and I are staying is."

"We can take you back," she offered. Was that what made him so uncomfortable?

"No need for that, if you can just give me the directions then I'll leave as soon as I get my fill."

"That would be rude for both parties. Eat, and then wait for my mom or dad to take you there. It won't be any trouble." She looked up from her boots, her hands moving to her hips, staring at him with the no nonsense look that quelled nearly all the males in her family. He was no different, conceding immediately to her will with a sharp nod, wisely giving up the fight.

With a satisfied nod, she turned and punched in the access code for the apartment building and led him across the lobby to the turbolifts. She pressed the twelfth floor button, the trip to the previously mentioned floor going in silence. When they were halfway down the hallway to her family's home, various greetings were broadcasted to her. Some were irritated, some were amused. Others were just hungry.

A smile crept on her face the closer she grew. In response, she sent silent apologies to her family for making them wait. She gestured for Loryn to walk faster. He kept up with her easily, his eyes still drifting over to her every few steps. Again, her hand rose to her hair, but this time she did not stop it from ruffling the strands a bit. For the second time that day, she noted that it would need to be cut soon.

She rounded the corner sharply, stopping at the door to the immediate left of her. Loryn rounded a moment later, and slightly jostled her from his abrupt stop. The door slid open before her hand even rose to the keypad. It revealed her smirking younger sister, Ailis, with her arms crossed over her chest, mirroring their mother.

"You're in trouble. Who's he?"

"This is Loryn Fel, Ailis. I met him on my way home. He's the reason I was late."

"Am not."

She tugged him inside her home, ignoring the prattle of her younger sister, and turned to face her family.

TBC

Well, do you like this one? No? Yes? Want more or should I leave it?


	3. Interlude: Fathers of Fates

**Interlude: Fathers' Flashback of Fates**

He stared at his daughter. She was growing up too fast for his liking. It seemed only yesterday that he was scared of dropping her. Oh wait, that was yesterday. And every other day from the time his daughter was born.

Zekk deftly caught his waddle-running one year old daughter around the waist without looking away from the smash ball game and placed the little girl in his lap. He tickled her stomach and listened to her laughter like a man dying of thirst. He loved every infantile noise that came from that child's mouth.

After playing in his lap for several moments, the little girl yawned and buried her face in the crook of his left arm. The game forgotten he looked at the child tiredly patting his arm. One pudgy hand had a firm grip on his sleeve and the other quit its patting, moving to rub one bright, emerald-blue eye. Jaina assured him that nearly all infants had blue eyes at first, gradually changing to they color they were meant to be over time.

He remembered the first time he saw a hint of green in her eyes. He nearly dropped her from surprise. Fortunately, Maeve had a great sense of humor and saw her sudden plummet and her father's quick rescue as a game. In a way, he was disappointed that Maeve's eyes didn't take on Jaina's shade of brandy brown but was inexplicably proud that his genes had overrun the Solo ones at the same time. In fact, Maeve seemed to resemble him the most. Her dark hair was barely a few shades lighter than his own, and although her features still held baby fat, they looked more like his than Jaina's.

Those eyes were fixed on his and mumbled something in her private language. Fatigue was rolling off of her through the Force. Zekk gently reached out with the Force to brush his daughter's mind and nudged it towards sleep. Instinctively, Maeve's mind pushed back, causing a warm smile to tug on Zekk's mouth. Still, his daughter's eyes slowly shut, the grip on his sleeve gradually slackening. He shifted her so he was cradling her in a better position, brushed her mind once more and returned his attention back to the game.

Two and a half hours later, the game was over, Zekk was channel surfing, with his daughter still resting in the crook of his arm, and cutting off all circulation to the limb. His wife's mind brushed against his from the entrance of the Jedi temple. He nudged her back and resumed his channel surfing. He paused at the beginning credits of a recent holodrama set under the time of the Empire called _Here's Looking at You_. Slouching, he settled further in the squishy, secondhand couch to watch. Maeve made a quiet noise and unconsciously brushed her mind against his but otherwise did not react.

Barely ten minutes into the movie, he felt his other half on the opposite side of their front door. A moment later, it whizzed open and she walked in. Zekk pressed a finger against his lips, glancing pointedly at their daughter. Jaina shot him a smile and crept over, placing her bag and cloak on a chair before walking over to sit gently down on the couch next to him. She kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, "I should have known you'd have her asleep before I got home."

Zekk tilted his head to the right, knowing Jaina could clearly sense what he wanted. With a soft laugh, she shifted and leaned around to kiss him on the mouth. Both reached out to each other through the Force.

"Bad-ma! Bad-da! Up!"

Jaina broke away, grinning at the now wide awake one-year-old. Now that the attention was focused on her again, the infant pushed herself of her father's arm and held out two pudgy arms to her mother. "Up!" she demanded again.

Jaina laughed, giving into her daughters orders. Then, she resituated herself to be under Zekk's arm, pressed up against him, with Maeve stomping on both of their laps. The three played well into the night before deciding to go to sleep.

----------

(Csilla, approximately one year and three months later)

His son stubbornly crawled over to the table. With practiced ease, he pulled himself up, keeping his hand firmly placed on the table. He banged on it with one hand, cheering and giving himself fanfare. Then, he took several waddling steps. Upon reaching the edge of the table, he gave himself more fanfare before releasing the edge. He wobbled and took several shaky steps before falling flat on his bottom. A pout crossed his face as the infant glared accusingly at the table. Then, he started to crawl towards it to begin the whole process again.

Jagged Fel shook his head at his son's stubbornness, secretly feeling pride at his son's tenacity. The boy had been trying to walk towards him for the better part of an hour, refusing to crawl. Loryn Fel, his third child and third son, was nearly one season old. He lacked the mobility and wide vocabulary that his older brothers had at his age but what he did know he put to good use. His single word vocabulary of "catch" was repeated for everything and he was quite agile on all fours. Jag had a hard time keeping track of Loryn this way so he dreaded the day the boy would learn how to walk.

Like his eldest brother and father, Loryn had black hair and green eyes. Loryn's eyes were glassier and had changed much earlier from baby blue than his brother Vanid's had. According to his mother, Loryn looked far more Antilles than Fel. His wife, Asori, agreed with her. If he squinted then Jag could see that Loryn's face was narrower and his jaw was not as pronounced. So maybe he did take more after the Antilles side in looks.

He turned away from his son to go back to reading his latest report about the political situation in the Galactic Alliance. In the background, he heard Loryn chanting "catch" to himself. A moment later, a hand clutched his trouser leg accompanied by a very stern order of "catch!". Without moving his eyes from his datapad, he reached down and placed Loryn on his lap. The screen of his datapad fizzled and the error sign flashed on the screen. Jag sighed and stared down at his son, who stared up innocently with the datacard that Jag had been reading in his mouth.

With another sigh, Jag held out his hand. Loryn brought his other hand up and slapped his palm against Jag's. A smile tugged on the corners of Jag's mouth. This time, when he held out his hand, he said patiently, "Loryn, please give that to me. I know you're teething but that's no reason to keep me from working."

Loryn's response was to babble incoherently around the datacard.

"All right, Loryn, I'll make a compromise with you. You give me that datacard and I will sit and watch every single holodrama we have with you."

The eleven-month-old's eyes widened almost as if he understood. Most likely, Loryn recognized the bargaining tone of voice, Jag mused. He probably expected that he was getting a cookie. Jag reached out and gently removed the datacard from his son's hand. With some tricky shifting, he managed to get a handkerchief out of his back pocket and wiped the datacard and his son's hand.

He lifted his son and carried him over to the holodrama shelf, shifting Loryn to allow him to see it. A fist shot out and knocked one of the cases off the shelf. Jag was barely able to catch it before it hit the floor. He chuckled and replaced the film. "This movie is a little too advanced for you. How about this one?"

Loryn patted the box and made an approving sound. Another laugh escaped him and Jag moved to the holoplayer. Before he could insert the disk there was the sound of the door whizzing open, shouting, and the stomping to clear away snow. His other two sons and wife came into the living room, all red-cheeked from the cold.

Asori frowned and chided, "Jag, if you don't stop carrying him everywhere, Loryn will never walk. And were you going to allow him to watch _that_ holo? It's so violent."

Jag shrugged and allowed himself to be bombarded by the rest of his family, punctuated by several shouts of "catch!".

**End of Interlude**

Well, that was rather pointless, but hopefully you guys enjoyed it.


	4. Lament of Fates

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars and I never will. Feeling a bit depressed about that. Oh well, here's your chapter.

----------

**Part 3: Lament of Fates**

With a growing dismay, Zekk watched out of the corner of his eye as his daughter dragged in a young man. The young man in question had black hair that was styled to give the illusion that he had spent no time on it, when he most likely occupied the refresher unit for thirty minutes for just his hair. His eyes were a pale, glassy green. The young man's face struck a cord of familiarity in him. But that could be Jaina's emotion. It was difficult to figure out what belongs to who when one felt a strong desire to sulk in a corner.

Despite the familiarity and the boy's appearance – it was a long standing joke between Jaina and Zekk that their children would only be happy with partners who had dark hair with green or brown eyes – neither were the source of Zekk's growing dread. It was in the young man's eyes. The look his daughter was unknowingly receiving was like a dagger to his heart. The look harkened to the one he frequently regarded with his wife. It was one of undying love, a bantha-eyed look if there ever was one. And with that look, Zekk knew he was going to lose his daughter to this young man. It was no Force or pessimistic paternal premonition. He knew from the look.

Through their bond, Jaina gave him the Force equivalent of a "lighten up!" before excusing herself to the kitchen to reheat the meal. Ben approached him from behind – visiting for an unknown amount of time – and clapped him on the shoulder. His cousin-in-law tried and failed to cheer him up. "Don't worry about it, Zekk. There's still Ailis. And at least Maeve didn't bring home any pod racers like she threatened to do."

Then, Ben walked over to the pair, still being assaulted by a relentless Ailis, and noogied Maeve while introducing himself to their guest. A few minutes later, Maeve came over to Zekk, the boy trailing behind her hesitantly. Having a strange feeling of detachment, Zekk hugged his daughter and mumbled the usual greetings. The boy snapped a quick bow to him once he was done speaking with Maeve. Again, familiarity struck, but he still could not place the boy.

"Hello, sir, I am Loryn Fel."

Fel. Fel. Fel. Wait, as in Jagged Fel? His wife's ex-boyfriend? The ex-boyfriend that had Zekk never hoped to see again to avoid any awkwardness? As in _that_ Fel family?

"I'm Zekk. By any chance, are you related to Jagged Fel?" he asked while shaking the young man's hand.

"Yes, he's my father. I would like to apologize for imposing on you and your family, sir," Loryn began.

"It's Zekk," he interrupted. "Just Zekk. And think nothing of it." His daughter was going to marry the son of his wife's ex-boyfriend. That was going to be one uncomfortable wedding. He still felt the almost overpowering urge to sit in a corner and sulk at how life threw unexpected curves.

From the kitchen, he could feel Jaina's amusement at his reaction. She was far too happy with this situation. It was almost as if she thought it was funny for him to be this uncomfortable. With that, he excused himself of the others and made his way into the kitchen. Once he was there, he efficiently made a nuisance of himself by getting in her way, holding her back, putting bowls where she couldn't reach, etc. The idea of being a nuisance progressed on to an agreeable activity for both them.

----------

She stared at her father's back as he made his way into the kitchen. Was it just her or did he feel a bit like a man approaching his doom? With a shake of her head, she physically shook off the idea. There was nothing for him to feel doomed about. If there were, then every Jedi would have felt it.

She grabbed Loryn's arm and pulled him to the couches, where she shoved him down next to Ben before sitting next to her sister. Her boots clattered to the floor as she made herself comfortable, tucking her feet beneath her. Loryn sat stiffly, his back much straighter than it had been while he was standing. His eyes flicked around the room nervously. She briefly wondered if she had made a mistake. After all, he most likely has never been away from Chiss space. Also, according to her mother, there were few humans in Chiss space so that too could have added to his discomfort.

In an effort to put him at ease, Ben turned to Loryn and gave him a friendly smile. "So, young Fel, what are you doing so far from Chiss space?"

"My father is attending some diplomatic affair here, and my mother thought it provided a good vacation for the rest of us, Master Skywalker," Loryn answered politely.

He was staring at her again. Her hand crept up to surreptitiously ruffle her hair. Ben spotted the action, shooting her a laughing grin and a wink. She made a mental note to beat his prized high score on _The Path of a Jedi_.

"If you want to give me a title, then it would be Knight Skywalker. But I'd prefer it if you would just call me Ben. Loosen up a little, too. You're acting like we're going to throw you to the krakana any minute," Ben said with a smirk. "Now, I can't speak for Jaina, but I assure you, the rest of us are relatively harmless."

Loryn sighed, his shoulders sagging in relief. She hadn't even noticed he was that tense. A grin that made a fuzzy feeling in her stomach spread across his face. He rubbed the heel of one military grade boot against the toe of the other as he said, "That sounds about right from what I've heard. Oh, you guys can call me Catch."

"So, Catch, how old are you?" Ailis asked.

With a frown, she noticed her twelve year old sister was giving Loryn a look normally reserved for her poster of the Jumping Womp Rats' lead singer. She would need to make sure her younger sister didn't try anything foolish.

"I have nearly reached my seventeenth lifeday," Loryn answered. Why was he addressing the answer to her? It was her sister's question. "What about you, Maeve? How many seasons do you have under your belt?"

"I'm seventeen." She suddenly noticed that the house was short one occupant. Turning slightly towards Ben, she asked, "Where's Han?"

"He's staying at a friend's tonight," her cousin answered.

When she glanced over at him, she noticed that he was staring at her again, with a slight frown on his face. "Isn't Han Solo your grandfather?"

A small chuckle escaped her. "He's also Ailis's twin brother."

"What? How does that work?" He was rather cute in a childlike way with that confused expression.

She felt Ben and Ailis's laughter. "It works because Han is named after my grandfather Han Solo."

"Oh. I knew that."

She laughed, ignoring mock-wounded look on Loryn's face.

"Well, Catch, I think you picked a good night to impose on our dinner. Han is gone, so that leaves his portion of the food to you and it's leftover night! So, I will go and see what is taking dinner so long. The service here is horrible." Her cousin stood and walked towards the kitchen.

She opened her mouth to yell a retort, but then Ben's voice came loudly from the kitchen, "Well, no wonder service is horrible. The kitchen staff is making out. Honestly! We have a dinner guest! Think how embarrassed poor Maeve is to have her parents well on their way to making another Solo when she brought home a _male_ friend."

Immediately, she ducked behind her sister, groaning in humiliation. Warmth spread up her neck and she knew that her face was becoming dotted by splotches of red. Her sister patted her back comfortingly, but she knew that Ailis wanted to hide as well. But at least her sister didn't have the embarrassment of Ben's implications.

Loryn was going to think she liked him, or worse, her parents were going to think she liked, mention it at the next family reunion, and then there would be teasing galore. She'd also have to go through her grandfather's rather angry speech on how boys are no good, using himself as an example. It would be even worse if there were family friends, like the last one. She shuddered at the thought of Wes Jansen being present. It had only happened twice but that was enough for her.

On the other couch, she heard something that sounded suspiciously like choked back laughter. She reached out with the Force and felt amusement pouring off of him. She nudged his mind, remembering a second later that he would barely feel the telekinetic push. In a new tactic, she nudged her cousin and used the Force to toss a throw pillow at Loryn. From his laughing yell of "Not the hair!" she knew she hit her target.

----------

Dinner was a surprisingly smooth affair. Aside from the large shock the Solos/Skywalker received when finding out that Loryn did not intend to follow "the family business" of military service. Instead, he was going to go into acting. He applied to several schools outside of the Chiss space, one of them that had answered was the Ackbar School of Performing Arts. He said that he was leaning more towards that one. She wondered why he was staring at her when he said that, but dismissed it in favor for getting more dessert.

Although he was nearly being grilled by her curious family for most of the meal, the times when he was not answering a question, Loryn mainly pushed his food around the plate. He later admitted that he wasn't used to such food. Somewhere around her third serving of chocolate pudding, his comlink went off, nearly sending Loryn through the roof. With a sheepish smile, he excused himself and made his way back to the living room.

His voice was a low murmur, but if she concentrated then she could make out certain words. She felt a twinge of guilt at eavesdropping but knowing that the rest of her family was doing the same and only pretending to have a conversation made her feel better. She knew this because her parents and cousin were murmuring about three unrelated topics to each other. The conversation resumed in full when Loryn walked back into the dining area with a hand over his comlink.

"Ahh. . . Jaina, Zekk?" Her parents had insisted the use of first names only, which he was clearly uncomfortable with. "Would it be all right if my family came to pick me up? I got lost when I went for a walk and couldn't find my way back to the hotel."

"Is that how you met Maeve?" her mother asked.

"Yes, I ran into her."

"So she found you while you were lost?" her mother persisted.

"If you want to put it that way, then yes."

Her parents had strange reactions to this answer. Her father felt almost fatalistic while her mother was nearly the opposite. A strange gleam reflected in Jaina's eyes and the smirk on her face was nearly triumphant. Before anyone else at the table could question them, Jaina said, "Sure, that's fine. Your family is welcome to come here and pick you up. It'll be a reunion of sorts."

----------

It was fate. His daughter found Loryn in a similar situation in how he had met Jaina. He found her, Maeve found the Fel boy. He knew it before, his wife's jab rather painful jab through the Force was unnecessary. There was nothing he could do to prevent it. Even if he tried, fate would happen somehow.

By the time the other Fels arrived, Zekk had resigned himself to the inevitable. He shook hands with them, smiling, making nice. A rock settled into his stomach as he watched Loryn say good-bye to Maeve. The boy held one of the most bantha-eyed expressions he had ever seen; his daughter seemed almost indifferent in comparison. Someday that would change. He hated that someday.

-----TBC------

Next part coming soon. I apologize for the long time that it took me to upload this. I take full responsibility because I am a bum and do nothing about it.


	5. Step of Fates

Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to George Lucas.

----------

**Part 4: Step of Fates**

The day was rainy and cold. Pedestrians sprinted quickly through open spaces, only the amphibious species took their time. Ocean water sprayed on the walkways and nailed the few beings still on them. Shelter was sought from the dismal weather in the form of awnings, roofed foot bridges, and beneath the balconies of the various buildings that lined the street. One person in particular stuck out.

This person was seen on the same path no less than four times in a row with the same morose expression on his face each time. Under normal circumstances, he would have enjoyed the attention but now he was too caught up in his own depressed thoughts. Dismally, he strode through the drizzly rain ignoring all nearby shelter, feeling comfortable in the cold, dreary weather with only a light, short-sleeved shirt. The day fit his mood, he mused sourly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, in a mocking voice that sounded like his older brother Raith told him that he was being an over-dramatic, love-sick buffoon. And it was right.

A heavy sigh escaped him as he walked past the Solos' apartment building for the tenth time. His hair was flopping into his eyes but he did nothing to move it. Nothing mattered anymore. Not his hair, not his classes, not the mess in his dorm room. Nothing. He lashed out with his foot at a rock and ended up swearing when he remembered that he was wearing soft-toed shoes instead of his regular boots.

He should have seen it coming. It happened all the time; she even mentioned it now and then. He turned and glared at the unoccupied Solo apartment. He glumly returned his gaze to the ground, continuing his walk. It wasn't fair. He'd chosen Ackbar School of Arts over schools at Naboo and Coruscant to be near her.

Four days ago was the day the Solo family left for the Jedi Academy on Coruscant for an indefinite period. There were times she had left before, but she always came back. There was always the estimated date of when she would return, a day he looked forward to. Now there was nothing to look forward to. Except for when she called. Which was not often.

There was an inside joke in the Solo family that he had been let in on. It was something along the lines that if Zekk or she ever called someone consistently then the whole galaxy was doomed. It would be up to him to do the calling if he was going to get his daily Maeve fix. His Holonet bill was going to be enormous.

His feet took him to the path that they walked when they first met two and a half years ago. His wrist chrono beeped, signally the time for him to return to his dorm and study for a test in his acting technique class. He also had to finish reading a tragedy that he was supposed to have done two nights ago.

His life had no color now. He didn't want to go to classes tomorrow. Life without her was dull, lifeless, empty. The drizzle turned into rain while he was wallowing in his misery. Halfway across his campus, one of his friends yelled at him to come join them for a game of sabacc in the rec. hall. He gave a dismissive wave, a gesture that was large and grand, far too theatric to hold any resemblance to the wave a Jedi gives when using the mind trick. Yet, the wave reminded him of when he first saw her use the Jedi Mind trick.

They were walking down a street, streaming with pedestrians, discussing the different gestures Jedi use to help focus their energy. The topic had started when Loryn made a rude gesture (which was only effective in Chiss space) at a man who knocked him over and excused himself by saying that he was only using the Force. Giggling like children up to no good, which they were, they ducked down an alley. She performed the technique, making someone suddenly decide to walk backwards. It wasn't much, but at the time it had been terribly amusing.

He stormed up to his dorm, his shoes squishing and leaving watery prints behind as he went. When he got into his room, he ignored his roommate's greeting and wet clothes as he fell face first onto the bed. Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the dorm room door. His roommate answered it, and then called for him to come over. With a glare fixed onto his face, he rolled out of bed, and directed his gaze at the interrupters of his misery. He didn't care that one was his RA and the other was a person he had to coexist with for the next few months.

"You have a holomessage, Fel. It's waiting for you on terminal six," the RA announced.

He stalked out of his room and to the communication room downstairs. The person on the other end was going to receive a piece of his mind. His shoes squeaked with every step on the metal floor, irritating him even more. All these emotions were erased when he saw the face on holo terminal six.

"Hi." His voice was squeaky. He cleared his throat noisily and repeated, "Hi."

She laughed and responded the same.

"So… what's up? I thought it was impossible for Maeve Solo to call someone?"

She shrugged. "We stopped for a slight detour on Kashyyk and well…"

Did she miss him as much as he missed her, come to realize that she couldn't live without him, and wanted to spend the rest of their days sitting on a beach? He sincerely hoped that was the case. He leaned forward eagerly, waiting to hear what she would say next. Mentally, he wondered whether she'd be opposed to eloping because he was rather short on funds.

"…my friends wanted to meet you."

The wedding plans came to a crashing halt, as did his heart. He wondered if that leftover take-out he ate this morning was giving him heartburn. It sure felt like it. Now that he thought of it, the stuff had tasted a bit off.

"What is it now?"

"Huh?" He stared at the screen in confusion.

"You're making that face again. The one you make when you think you're getting sick. You can be far too dramatic at times."

He scowled, not caring that it came out more like a pout. Sure he could blow things a bit out of proportion but he was an actor. That's what he was supposed to do. She laughed at his expression, which rapidly transformed into a blush. To change the topic, he went back to the one that spawned the second subject.

"So… about your friends?"

"Oh, yeah. Hold on, they abandoned me to get some qualse."

For the sake of his stomach, he decided not to ask. After living in the Chiss space for nearly all his life, he found the food varieties in the GA wonderful, baffling, and sickening all at once. He also discovered that his stomach preferred Corellian and Chiss food to some of the more exotic fares the rest of the galaxy had to offer. Despite his efforts in not asking, he found out that qualse was some sort of leaf candy that was "quite good" according to her.

As he made small talk with her friends, his eyes would automatically drift to her, where she was barely visible in the right upper hand corner. Then, when one of her friends – they were both Wookiees – said something, she would translate and he would politely returned his gaze to the one he thought asked the question and respond. Occasionally, her brother Han, who had his mother's coloring with his father's features, would drift across in the background. Han would jump up and down, doing a number of silly things. Loryn started to see how long he could keep a straight face before he broke his carefully polite smile into a grin.

After several minutes of conversing with them, he had to end the call and give the terminal up to another person. His insides were twisting round and round. Maybe the next time she was on planet, he could scrounge up the courage to ask her out. It would take until then before he was brave enough, he mused.

He reentered his room feeling considerably better than when he had left it. He said hello to his roommate and started to study for his acting technique class.

----------

(One year later, three weeks, and nine hours later)

There was a loud beeping on his comlink. He grunted and buried his head under his pillow. Comlinks were unimportant right now, dreaming about her was. His roommate's pillow connected with his back, accompanied by a very sleepy and agitated voice ordering, "Answer, Catch, or I'll hang your boxers out the window. The Rogue Squadron ones."

Quick as a flash, he rolled out of his bed and forgot to go into a crouch, landing with a loud bang. He scrambled up, only to realize that he was tangled in his bed sheets, and toppled over again. He gave up on standing and made for his desk at a swift crawl. His crawling was always better than his walking – that's what his older brothers said – so he made it in time to answer the persistent caller. The rather annoying theme he had set for his ring tone had repeated two times already.

"Hello?" he asked. His voice was heavy and hoarse with sleep.

"Hi, 'Ryn, did I wake you up?"

"No!" An instant smile appeared on his face, instinctively, he started to straighten his hair a bit and sat up straighter. All around, he made an effort to look less tired than he appeared for a voice. She called him "'Ryn". He didn't know where the nickname came from or why she started calling him it but rather liked it.

"Liar. It's 0500. You sleep until 1000. Tell Ephin that I'm sorry for waking him."

"Tell 'er it s'alright but if sha does it 'gain, I'ma not gonna be happy," Ephin muttered, his voice slurring from his state of half-consciousness.

"He said he forgives you but to not do it again."

"Okay. What are you doing today?"

"I can't recall. I think I have some classes. Wait, why do you want to know?" She never asked about his classes before. Now that he thought of it. She shouldn't be calling his personal comlink! She was on Coruscant. It was defying all the things he knew about communication and he really couldn't handle life-changing situations so early in the morning. So he told her as much and couldn't stop himself from basking in her laughter, even if it was at his expense.

"No, 'Ryn, I'm not on Coruscant. I'm here. I thought you would have figured that out by now."

"Huh?" He glanced about the room eagerly, his sleep addled brain taking things too literally.

"I'm not here, here, as in where you are. I'm here as in where I am."

He nodded incomprehensively, and then remembered that she could not see him. So, he said, "Ahh…"

"Well, I can hear that you're half asleep still so I'll let you go. Call me after your classes."

"Hey, wait–" the line clicked and went dead. He frowned and scratched his head.

"Catch, please return my pillow t'me. You can muse about your nonexistent love life later."

A frown crept onto his face and he crawled back to his bed and threw the pillow at his roommate's head. There was a satisfying grunt when it made contact – pillows could hurt, as he learned when he was younger – and he pulled himself into his own bed to go back to sleep.

----------

Everything was lighter. He never noticed the ocean was that shade of blue. The weather didn't feel so uncomfortably hot, and he didn't even mind that the ocean spray had thoroughly doused him. It didn't bother him that the public lift was painfully slow and lacked the efficiency Chiss lifts had. If he could do it without mentally hearing his brothers' teasing, then he would run singing down the streets. Since he couldn't, he settled for humming loud enough to cause passerby to stare.

The neon pink and neon orange rebel symbol gleamed vibrantly against the side of the building. Metal railings on the balcony shown brightly in the sunlight. Had the Solos apartment building always seemed so clean? He stared at the sign on the door, mentally translating the Aurebesh into Cheunh. It stated DRY SEASON CLEANING FOR THE NEXT TWO WEEKS with the beginning date written on it. He scratched his head and wondered, _Mon Calamari has a dry season?_

Several minutes passed as he thought about this. He was thinking so hard that he didn't hear the footsteps approaching him from behind until a hand clapped on his shoulder. His scream was rather high-pitched but not as shrill as she claimed it to be. He let the comment go in favor of observing any changes that had happened in the year she was absent.

Her dark brown hair was a little past her shoulders, a fact which shocked him because three months ago – the time that they had last spoken face to face – her hair was in the middle of her neck. Compared to her usual hair length preferences, it was long. He also noted that her hair had been cut with a sideways fringe that annoyed her judging by the way that her hand absently swept it out of her right eye. Both eyes were the green surrounded by a circle of darker green. The sun on Coruscant must have been strong or she traveled to a sunny world because her normally fair complexion had a light tan. One of her wrists was wrapped in a bacta patch and there were strips of syn-flesh on her neck and on her left cheek. Her messenger bag was slung over the opposite shoulder that it normally was hung and she looked like she was limping a bit. He decided to ask about her injuries later, after they caught up a bit.

"You grew three more centimeters!" he accused. He struck a dramatic pose with one arm on his hip and the other pointing towards her, his finger nearly touching her nose.

She laughed and brushed his hand away. "I did not."

"The top of your head was up to nose before you left; now it's nearly up to my eyes. Stop growing." He liked tall girls but this was getting a bit extreme. His height was one of the few things he could hold over his brothers' head and nearly everyone else's. Being tall was always spoiled by standing near her, her father, or a Wookiee. On the other hand, she was as tall as both of his older brothers which provided endless amusement to him.

Her eyes went in a slow, obvious roll, sending him a mock-condescending look. The expression of maturity was ruined when he wrung the sleeve of his wet shirt over her head. The salty water twisted out in a steady stream before dying, leaving behind a sputtering Solo. A hand came up and wiped her hair from her eyes.

"Loryn Fel! Was that ocean water or sweat?"

"Not telling. It would serve you right if it were sweat. Honestly, you didn't call me for three months!"

"I was on a mission. You know that." The hand swept wet hair out of her eyes again. Emerald green eyes flicked upward and to the side in an attempt to glare at the wayward hair. The attempt fell short and she sighed in defeat. His eyes were falling into the old habit of trying to surreptitiously observe her every move. "Come on up. There're cookies somewhere in the house if Han hasn't eaten them all yet."

For the first time in a year, he entered the apartment building and followed her up the familiar path to the Solo apartment. Hallways were cleaner than the last time he had seen them and a stain that had been on the wall for who knows how long had been removed from the premises. Even the lifts moved a little bit quicker. Dry season cleaning must be going smoothly. It made everything look new and fresh, although that might have something to do with her standing beside him.

Upon arriving at the Solo apartment there was no one to greet them. A frown tugged at the corner of his mouth. How rude! A friend comes to say "hello" and there's no one there to say "hello" back! For the moment, he decided to ignore the lack of Solos and started to check for any changes in the apartment. Things were dustier but the two couches were still facing each other in the living area, out of view to the dining part hidden by the kitchen.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him into the kitchen. His initial impression of the lack of Solos was incorrect. Currently, Zekk Solo was stacking cookies onto a plate while balancing two cups of blue milk that were on the plate as well. The motions were slow as if every one was painful. Zekk turned towards them when they came in and greeted, "Nice to see you again, Catch. I was wondering when you would show up. Did you get the new bacta patches, Eve?"

Before he could ask about the bacta patches, she treaded on his feet on her way to give her father the item, painfully reminding him that he really needed to start wearing his boots again. Without thinking, he swore violently in Cheunh, and then remembering where he was, apologized a moment later, "Sorry, sorry. But, Sith spit, that hurt."

"Oh, sorry, 'Ryn, did I step on your feet?" Her innocent eyes weren't fooling him. He had made better ones before he could even walk.

Well, two could play at that game. He straightened from his bent over position, leaning nonchalantly against the counter and said, "No, whatever gave you that idea, Eve?"

She hated being called that. The only person whom she allowed was her father and grandfather. A look promising swift and painful revenge was shot his way.

"Jaina's asleep, so kill him quietly," Zekk joked before leaving the kitchen with the load of cookies and milk.

"Not any more," Jaina's voice called back into the kitchen. There were several murmurs from the adults in the other room. "Don't eat all the cookies. They're the only thing edible in this house aside from the blue milk we brought off the ship with us until someone goes grocery shopping." The murmurs resumed, but steadily drifted away from the kitchen.

After her parents' departure from the area, she moved to the cookie container and began to load some onto a plate. Taking her hint, he grabbed two glasses from a cabinet and started to fill them with blue milk. While he was doing so, he asked, "So-o… what happened to you and your dad?"

"It wasn't just my dad and me, it was the whole family, but it's nothing to worry about. Just a bit of trouble with the Sith."

Even though he wasn't entirely convinced, he let it go for now. The subject of Sith vs. Jedi was too convoluted for him to understand anymore. Besides, this was a happy occasion. No need to drag in people who tried to kill someone he cared about. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. He could ask her out now. Mentally, he checked his courage reserves, and was saddened to find them nearly dry. That was going to make it harder.

His breath quickened without his say so. Now would still be a good opportunity despite the drought of courage. There might not be another chance like this. For once, his eyes refused to look at her. Somewhere, the Corellian part of him rose up to the challenge and propelled him to blurt out, "Wannagooutwithme?"

"Are you speaking Cheunh again?"

"No-o." His voice cracked a bit, and he reassured himself that it was his difficult vocal lesson from earlier that morning. Again, his Corellian blood was really rolling and, once more, made him talk, this time much slower. "I was won-der-ing if you wan-ted to go out with me."

However, it came out much too slow and a tad condescending. His Corellian half was promptly attacked by his non-confrontational half that was cringing in horror and urging him to turn tail and flee. Oddly, a mental holofilm of two beings – one that resembled Han Solo (the elder one) and the other that resembled a spiced up Toydarian – fighting started to play in his head. Thus, he was distracted enough that he missed her initial answer and had to ask her to repeat it in an embarrassingly squeaky voice.

"I asked 'when?'. I can't do it tonight, obviously, since I just got back. And the next two or so days will be bad since we'll still be settling in."

The being that resembled Han Solo won and a reckless grin slid onto his face. "How about on the weekend? My schedule is a bit full, too. We could go see the new Braaks holo and eat something entirely unhealthy afterwards."

"Sure, I'd like that."

He snuck a look at her out of the corner of his eye, delighted to find that she was looking at him with a lop-sided grin on her face.

-----TBC-----

R&R if you want. I appreciate all feedback. Guess what? I have one mroe part for you coming right up. After that, you're going to have to wait. Sorry!


	6. Interlude: Brothers of Fates

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars.

----------

**Interlude: Brothers of Fates**

Blue. Everything on this planet was a shade of blue, Vanid mused. Ocean was a deep, dark, cold blue. The buildings were a silvery blue, reflecting the sky and ocean. For Thrawn's sake, even the ships seemed to be blue!

All the blue reminded him of Csilla. The pure white of the snow had a way of invading all other colors and making them look paler than they were. Perhaps it was a trick of the lighting. That was most likely it. He really should discuss it with some of his youngest brother's friends. Loryn did have a habit of finding every single artistically inclined being in a fifty-kilometer diameter.

Speaking of Loryn, little Catch was supposed to be here by now. A sigh escaped him and he peered down at his chronometer. Perhaps being around these outsiders had ruined his sense of punctuality. Another sigh left his lungs heavily.

Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, crawling into his black CEDF uniform. This planet was far too hot. Then again, compared to Csilla, any other planet aside from Hoth was a sauna. He probably should have worn something other than black and a bit more informal. Another drop of sweat trickled down his neck.

"Hey, you! No, not you! The stiff looking guy who looks like he's going to a funeral!"

He wondered who the stiff person was. His natural curiosity really wanted to inspect but his well-trained side had kept him facing the crowd of pedestrians. Then, a hand seized his elbow. Automatically, he grabbed the hand and twisted it but his tight grip was easily broken.

"Sithspit, what was that for?" Perhaps his grip was not that easily broken. "Didn't you hear me calling you?"

"Are you implying that I am the man who is going to a funeral?" He turned and stared at a young man near his own height although he could not be more than seventeen years of age. The young man's face was similar to that of Vanid's brother's girlfriend's but his coloring was different. His hair was a lighter brown with unnatural streaks of electric blue and the young man's eyes reminded Vanid of his father's vintage Corellian brandy from which he used to steal shots. A drink was sounding good right now. He wondered what was taking Catch. Then a thought occurred to him. No, Catch wouldn't have. Aloud, he stated, "Catch didn't. He did not send you to pick me up when he could have done it himself."

"Well… yes and no. His rehearsal ran over so he asked me to come pick you up."

"You're late," Vanid stated.

"Sorry 'bout that. My twin is using the speeder. I had to walk here," the young man said with a grimace.

Despite his annoyance at being regulated to a crazy Jedi adolescent – no one could have that shade of blue in their hair and not be insane – Vanid resigned himself to the change of guides. Inside, he was wishing that he hadn't bullied his way into going. Outwardly, he lifted up his small duffel and held out his hand to the young Jedi in an effort to be polite. "I am Vanid Fel."

"Han Solo." They briefly shook hands and Han gestured for Vanid to follow him.

The walk to Catch's apartment started in silence. Then, no doubt in an effort to act civil, Han commented, "Soo… you haven't seen Catch in how many years?"

"Catch and I have not seen each other face to face in six years."

Han whistled. "Wow. I don't think my family would let me keep to myself for a week much less six years."

"Yes, but it was what he wanted."

"Ahh. You know, I've been meaning to ask him this but you're good enough. Can you tell me why Catch decided to go into acting? I know your grandma was Wynssa Starflare but it just seems strange when the majority of you go into military."

"Someone tried to kidnap my three youngest siblings, Catch being one of those three. He was eleven, there was fighting, and in order to protect our younger sisters he used a charric on them."

"Are you saying that he _killed_ someone at the age of eleven?"

"Yes. Four someones."

"No wonder he didn't want to be in the military."

A frown crawled onto Vanid's face. That wasn't it at all. "Catch was not as traumatized as you think. He was young, yes, he did get upset, but in the Chiss society, you mature early so he recovered quickly. Actually, from that run-in, he realized that he didn't like conflict. He fights if he has to, but he won't go into a profession that requires fighting."

"Is that a nice way of saying he couldn't hit the broad-side of a star destroyer?" Han asked.

Vanid chuckled. "Ask him to go to a shooting range with you sometime. You'll see."

The conversation died off. Vanid started to observe his surroundings so he could make his way back to the hangar. His mental mapping came to a sudden halt when he saw an attractive human female sitting at a café. His pace slowed as his attention was fully directed to observing her.

"Hey, what's the hold up?" Han's rough punch to his arm forced him to respond.

"Nothing, nothing." He ran his fingers contemplatively over the rough stubble on his chin. Should he get her com code? On the other hand, would that seem too forward since he was just a random person from the street? Although, it might be a waste of time to exchange com codes because he was only on planet for a month. Still, maybe she wouldn't mind having a no strings attached relationship for a bit.

"…Emperor Palpatine streaked through the Imperial Palace."

His attention was reluctantly removed from the woman as the unbidden image of Emperor Palpatine running – with underwear on thankfully – through the halls of a building came into his brain. Furiously, he rubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes to try to efface the image from his mind. When that didn't work, he imagined anything but _that_. It took the image of a belly-dancing Hutt to get it out.

"Judging from your expression that image has just appeared in your mind. Maybe you'll pay attention, now."

"That was the most mentally disturbing thing I have happened to me in a while."

"But it got your attention."

"Yes, it did. The end justified the means." After several moments of no comments from the Solo, Vanid turned to see Han have a dark look on his face. Wondering how those words could have brought on the change in demeanor, he asked, "Are you all right?"

Catch would not be pleased if he offended one of his likely in-laws on first meeting.

Han shook it off and stated more than asked, "You were looking at that girl over there, correct?"

"Yes, I was," Vanid said, turning slightly. He was disappointed to see that his potential date was joined by a male and acting in a more-than-friendly fashion. There went part of his vacation plans.

"You know, Mon Calamari has a very nice party scene. My friends and I could introduce you around," Han offered. Vanid wondered if he should be jealous that a man barely out of boyhood knew more about a planet's nightlife than him. "Catch won't be much help. He either spends his free time with Maeve or thinking of her."

His thoughts now turned to his little brother's girlfriend. Catch had one or two when he had been at Csilla but they were never as serious as he was about this one. Vanid could practically recite the girl's life story just from the messages his brother sent home. Eighty-three percent of the messages were about Maeve Solo, the other seventeen percent about his schooling and day-to-day life but one could clearly tell that he'd rather speak about Maeve. Catch had even enclosed some holograms, many of them including Maeve. However, it was one thing to hear about a person through their admirer and another to hear about them from their family. Therefore, he decided that it would be a wise topic to bring up with her sibling, especially a younger one. Younger ones always provided the best information since they normally knew the real personalities of their older siblings.

"Perhaps you could tell me a bit about your sister?" Vanid suggested. At Han's raised eyebrow, he elaborated, "Catch gave us her life story, but it's better to hear about someone from a view unclouded by…" He could not think of a word to describe his brother's affection for Maeve Solo.

"Obsessive devotion?" Han suggested with a grin.

Vanid nodded, a smile growing on his face as well. His smile turned roguish when he spotted a trio of girls walking by. They giggled and twittered, boosting his ego quite nicely. A moment later, he turned back to Han with a polite smile on his face, saying that he was all ears now.

"Sit– I mean Force! What Catch lacks in noticing the fairer sex, you certainly make up for," Han commented with a lop-sided grin before changing the subject. "Anyway, I take it you want to know what Maeve is really like and not Catch's fanatically biased point of view."

He suddenly realized that the younger Solo might have taken offence at that statement. Immediately, he sought to remedy his error. "Pardon my question. It was rude of me to ask, especially since you're related to her. I wasn't thinking."

Han held up a hand. "Don't worry about it. I understand. You have no idea what Maeve is really like. You're only looking out for your sibling. I can understand that.

"Maeve drinks out of the carton of blue milk. She leaves her boots out where people can trip over them and has a habit of using most of the hot water even though her hair is short. She's stubborn, willful, sometimes has a short temper, and whenever she eats the last of something, she'll put the container back in its spot for other people to throw away," Han listed casually.

Vanid snorted and couldn't restrain a stream of laughter. The list of vices was not exactly what he was looking for. He was sure that Han knew he wanted a description of her character instead of a list of her shortcomings. Nonetheless, it was amusing. He could see why Catch and Maeve would make a good couple. Catch used to drink out of the milk container as well.

"Seriously though, you have nothing to worry about. Maeve's nice. She takes after my dad so she can handle Catch's drama. Force knows he goes through enough of it just taking the whole family on a trip." Han shuddered a bit before continuing. "Maeve is calm compared to most of my family members. I was being serious, though, when I said she was willful, stubborn, and has a short temper. Nearly everyone in our family has a bad temper but it takes them time to show it. Maeve's like that. You have to get her annoyed enough to scream. I should know."

The response wasn't up to Chiss standards. It too was biased, now that he thought of it. He was her brother after all. Vanid would have done the same for his own family unless it was an official report. Then he would try to be as impartial as he could. Still, if his brother liked this girl than he would wait and see before he made any final decisions. After all, his mother would kill him if he didn't give a thorough report on her.

"So… What are Catch's little vices? Anything that I can blackmail him with?" Han asked with a mischievous grin.

"Are you kidding? Of course I have blackmail material. What kind of older sibling do you take me for? By the time we get to Catch's apartment, you could enslave him for life," Vanid started with a grin that matched Han's.

----------

The streets were more crowded. That was the first thing Vanid noticed when they grew closer to the government provided apartment buildings. That, and there was a large building nearby that had a neon orange and neon pink rebel insignia painted on it. The streets were also slippery from the nearby ocean. Didn't this planet have a dry spot? In the distance he could see a building that Han told him was the Ackbar School of Arts, where Catch had attended. It seemed to be about a thirty minute walk from this area.

He was surprised to notice that they were headed towards the building with the rebel insignia painted on it. Why were they going there? Catch said that his apartment building was closer to the ocean and was painted to look like a desert. A memory teased the edges of his mind. After waiting patiently, he finally realized what the memory was. This was the building where the Solos lived. He knew so because he went with his father to pick up Catch when they visited Mon Calamari six years ago.

Still, he couldn't figure out why they were going there. In his message, Catch said that he would pick him up from the docking bays, get something to eat, and then go to his apartment to watch pod-racing. Then again, Catch did not pick him up at the docking bays so it fit with how the rest of the plan was going.

Han punched in the outer door's code and the two were admitted to a small, but efficient lobby. The turbolift was slower than Vanid was used to, but it was an older model than what he was used to.

Down the hall and around the corner on the twelfth floor, there seemed to be some sort of commotion going on. Vanid instantly recognized the voice of one participant as his brother. Judging from the delivery of words and mocking tone, the argument was anything but serious. The other voice, it was feminine, had to be Maeve.

As they rounded the corner, Vanid learned that his guesses were right. Maeve Solo flashed them a smile and waved before returning to the mock-argument. Catch, since his back was turned, was slower on the uptake, changing the subject to why Maeve was waving at no one.

"Maeve, I'm right here, there's no one you need to wave at. Why are you smirking at me like that? What do you know that I don't?" Catch demanded. His brother was becoming impatient. He could tell from the way Catch kept fidgeting and rocking on his feet.

"I know a lot of things that you don't. Which one were you speaking of?" Maeve countered.

Catch abruptly stopped fidgeting and scratched the back of his neck. "I don't know. Why don't you just tell me one?"

"Well…" Maeve tapped her chin with one finger, the mischievous smirk growing on her face. "My brother and your brother are standing behind you."

"Huh?" Catch awkwardly twisted around to look at them, making his back crack. The other three people in the hallway winced. A smile grew on Catch's face, he turned the rest of his body around, closed the distance between them, and gathered Vanid in a hug. He was slightly dismayed to realize that Catch had grown another centimeter. Catch pulled back and grinned. "I almost forgot you were coming!"

Vanid wrapped one arm around his brother's neck, tucked him under it while tugging him down to his height, and noogied Catch's head. There were many muffled protests, and Catch was persistently poking him in the back, attempting to find Vanid's ticklish spot before his hair was ruined. When Vanid released Catch, his brother's hair was ruined and he knew Catch would be distinctly feeling a burning sensation on the top of his head. He nodded in pride of his handiwork and turned to Maeve, ignoring Catch's unhappy grunt.

To Maeve, he gave a quick half-bow before shaking her hand. "It's nice to finally meet the girl who my brother dictated an informal biography."

"From what I remember, we've met before, when 'Ryn got lost," Maeve pointed out.

Both of them ignored the Catch's indignant hey's.

"'Ryn?" Vanid echoed. He looked back at his little brother. "Did your vocabulary revert to one word again during your stay here?"

Catch shook his head, his sloppily rearranged hair falling into his eyes, frowning at Vanid. "No, she came up with it. I like it. It's better than Catch."

"Nah, I'm for the classics." Vanid slung one arm around his brother and another around Maeve, looking between the two. "So, which one of you is going to introduce me to my future-in-laws?"

He reveled in the red stain rising on their cheeks. His parents would be very pleased with his report on Catch's well-being.

TBC

Well… here's the last interlude. Enjoy. At least, I think it will be the last one. R&R if you want. Kudos to any of you that do.

**Furyan Jedi 13:** Hope you don't remind responding to your review this way. I have no other way to really do it. Thanks! Catch and Maeve are really hard to get right. I didn't want them to be exactly like their parents but I wanted them to hold some of their qualities. I want to work on their families reactions a bit mroe soon, but I'm not sure where that would fit in. I basically have Jaina and Zekk's but the Fels are being a mystery. Hopefully these new editions filled up some of your desires.

Another J/Z shipper! Yay! It's so nice to find others. This story has caused me to like Jag very much against my will. I think I'm going to fit in a little background on Loryn's mother sometime in the next bit. At least, that's what I'm hoping for.


End file.
